


Best of Wives and Best of Women

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Darillium (Doctor Who), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hamilton References, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Kissing, POV The Doctor (Doctor Who), Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Singing Towers of Darillium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25823566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: At the end of a long, long night, the Doctor doesn't quite know how to say goodbye.
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Best of Wives and Best of Women

**Author's Note:**

> I had the riff from the beginning of "Best of Wives and Best of Women" stuck in my head last night and then it hit me out of nowhere: what if the Doctor said that to River? It started out as a cute idea, but as the original song has a note of sadness, that carried over into the fic as well. 
> 
> I'll probably put this at the end of my Darillium series at some point, but I think it stands alone well for now. :)

The Doctor gazed at the rays of dawn peeking over the horizon. Today was the day the sun would finally appear after its long absence, the first moment of a sunrise that would last a few years. With the two towers far in the distance and their impossible music filling the air, he was sure it would be an incredible experience.

He wouldn’t stay long enough to witness it.

He inhaled a deep breath of fresh air through his nose and tried to appreciate how beautiful the land looked painted in the soft hues of daybreak. It gave an entirely new aspect to the rocky terrain, as he had only ever seen it in dusk and darkness. The planet seemed to be thrumming with life as if it were rejoicing at the end of the twenty-four year night…

The Doctor cringed.

_End._

The thing he’d desperately been trying not to think of pushed itself to the front of his mind. All at once, he became aware of the feeling like a weight on his chest that made it difficult to breathe. His stomach seemed to be no more than a hole that had been punched through. He gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

Her face came to mind, but not as it was now. Rather, it was as it was when he had met her for (what he’d thought had been) the first time, two lives ago. His memories played through her expressions of anguish that had been entirely lost on him then.

Now, _anguish_ perfectly described what he was feeling, too. Because in a matter of hours, he would send his wife to her death. He’d give her over to a version of him who didn’t know her and treated her like a dubious stranger. And _that_ was the last time she’d see him before—

He grit his teeth. Tears that he’d been pushing back for years stung his eyes.

The idea that had always been in the back of his mind made itself known: what if he said no? What if he kept her here with him? What if he simply wouldn’t allow her to die?

He’d done worse. He’d done much worse.

Someone came to mind—not a face, but a name: _Clara._ The painful reminder (or lack thereof) of what happened when he took someone else’s fate into his own hands.

No. No playing God this time. River didn’t deserve that.

So he’d look in on her as she slept, get one last glimpse of her face. Maybe he’d even dare to brush his fingers along her cheek. Then he’d be gone.

Because he didn’t do goodbyes, and this was one farewell he could never, ever bear.

The front door of their house opened with a soft creak. The Doctor let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He pushed back the tears once more.

He didn’t turn. He couldn’t bear to see her face.

Arms slipped around his neck, hands sliding down his chest. Her curls brushed the back of his neck. Her breath ruffled his hair.

“Come back to sleep.”

The Doctor leaned back into her like a reflex. “I’m not tired.”

He heard her swallow, felt her bury her face in his hair for a moment. “It’s nearly dawn.” Though her voice was soft and clear, the Doctor could hear the tremor beneath her words.

“I know. I just need to be alone.” He pressed his lips together. The last thing he wanted was to be apart from her, but this way it would be easier on both of them…wouldn’t it?

“Why do you always do that?” She nuzzled his neck and the Doctor placed his hands over hers. “You always say you’re stronger alone when you know you’re not.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to commit these feelings to memory. She made him feel like no one else ever had.

“Well if you won’t go back to bed, then neither will I.” She released her hold on him and walked around the chair to stand in front of him.

The Doctor took a moment to study her and take a picture with his mind. The tips of her curls brushed golden in the sunlight, her lips slightly curved into a smile, her eyes bright with life even when shaded in shadow.

River leaned down and brushed a fingertip along the corner of his eye. The Doctor blinked and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Part of him wanted to argue with her, but his tears had betrayed him.

“Just stay to watch the sun rise. That would be enough.”

He knew she was lying. Nothing would ever be enough when they both knew this was the last time they’d see each other—like this, anyway.

But now, of all times, he couldn’t refuse her.

He simply nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady. River settled herself sideways in his lap and let her legs hang over the arm of the chair. She turned her head to look out at Darillium, the place they had called home for twenty-four years.

Twenty-four years of bliss. Twenty-four years that, to an outsider, would seem insignificant when compared to over two thousand years of life.

But to the Doctor, they were _everything._

A sob broke through his careful composure. He bit his tongue before it could continue, but he couldn’t help the tears that tracked down his cheeks.

River looked at him with her eyes full of compassion. She took his face in her hands. “Shh, my love. Not yet.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, her eyes were glassy. Her gaze left his as her hand moved over his face, tracing his wrinkles with a feather-light touch. The Doctor closed his eyes again. He wrapped his arms around her and forced himself to only think about the River in front of him, not the ghost from his past.

River brought her face close and brushed her nose against his. Her breath washed over him. She kissed the tip of his nose, then continued to press soft kisses all over his face. In between each touch of her lips, she whispered things that only they knew. The Doctor breathed out her name. He didn’t allow himself to think about how much he would miss her. Instead, he drank in her presence like he was a man dying of thirst. He had to remember every single moment.

Finally, River curled into him and pressed her face into his neck.

“The sunrise is the other way,” the Doctor murmured, just able to muster a slight note of teasing in his tone.

River hummed and sighed. She wrapped one arm around his middle and immersed her other hand in his hair.

“You’re all the sun I need.”

The Doctor smiled, remembering oh so long ago when she had doubted his love for her. None of that remained now, for either of them. There was no doubt, and there never would be ever again.

River had been right. He was never stronger alone.

He kissed her hair just above her ear. “Hey,” he whispered gently.

River pulled away from him to meet his gaze, her eyebrows raised in question. The Doctor smiled at her, his hearts so filled with love that it seemed they would burst. He kissed her lips, then murmured as he withdrew,

“Best of wives and best of women.”


End file.
